


To Thine Own Self Be True

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Vocal Adrenaline’s performance, Kurt has a crisis of fashion, vocabulary, and conscience.  Blaine can help him figure out the last one, at least.</p>
<p>set during 3x16 ("Saturday Night Glee-ver")</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Thine Own Self Be True

Sunday morning Kurt sat on the edge of his bed in a plain white long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans and stared past the open doors of his closet into the neatly organized shelves, bins, and rods holding his spring wardrobe. There were so many gorgeous pieces in there - shirts, jackets, vests, scarves, suits, pants, shoes, ties from Marc Jacobs, Alexander Wang, Vivienne Westwood, Rag & Bone, H&M, Alexander McQueen, Opening Ceremony, Zara, Burberry, Diesel, Y-3, Gucci, Moschino, Ralph Lauren, DSquared2, Thomas Engel Hart - and he loved every one. He took care of his clothes, adding in new pieces as often as he could but reusing and repurposing old favorites, too. Men’s, women’s, formal, casual, expensive, cheap... it didn’t matter to Kurt as long as it was _perfect_.

He had more outfits that he wanted to put together than days to wear them. He dreamed of the glamour of yesteryear when people changed clothes four times a day or more. Usually in the morning getting dressed was a simple matter of deciding exactly what image he wanted to project that day, from classic with a twist to whimsically thematic to edgy and modern, what facet of himself he wanted to put forward to the world. It was one of his favorite parts of his day.

But that morning, he could only sit there and look into his closet, his hands resting uselessly on his knees and his mind blank.

Kurt had no idea what to wear.

Somewhere at the edges of his awareness, he heard the front door open and close and some laughing conversation downstairs, but it wasn’t until there was a jazzy knock on his bedroom door that Kurt looked over at the clock and realized with a shock that he’d taken so long not picking an outfit that he wasn’t ready to go out with Blaine to brunch.

“Come in.” Kurt stood up and took a step toward his closet, but his mind was still a big gaping hole devoid of fashion. He realized with horror that it must be how most people felt every day of their lives. They just... put things on. What a nightmare it would be.

“Good morning,” Blaine said with his usual warm smile as he came into the room. He was dressed to perfection, of course, in a white and navy sweater vest that showed off his strong arms. Before he met Blaine, Kurt had never thought of Brooks Brothers’ clothing as being sexually charged, but with the way it looked on Blaine and made Kurt want to run his hands all over him it was almost becoming fetish wear for him at this point.

“I’m not ready,” Kurt apologized, twisting his hands in front of him as Blaine stepped closer.

“I think you look great.” Blaine leaned in for a kiss, and Kurt slid his arms around Blaine’s neck and let himself get lost for just a minute in the familiar taste combination of coffee, toothpaste, and Blaine. It was always, _always_ like a balm to his heart, soothing away whatever rough spots life left on it, to kiss Blaine. It worked even in the midst of this most dire fashion crisis.

When his eyes slowly fluttered open again, he nuzzled his nose against Blaine’s smoothly shaved cheek, breathed in the scent of his cologne, and said with a smile, “You are biased. Or blind.”

Blaine chuckled and slipped the tips of his fingers along the collar of Kurt's simple tee, making his skin tingle in their wake. “Maybe, but I still think you look great.”

Kurt shook his head. “I can’t - and I hope you’ll appreciate how I may _never_ have said this before in my life - figure out what to wear. Not decide. Not choose. _Figure out_.”

“Wow.” Blaine glanced over at his bedspread; usually if Kurt was still trying out various options there would be outfits draped carefully over the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt said, drawing in a deep breath as Blaine rubbed his hand soothingly along his spine.

“Well, I know it can’t be something as simple as you being hungry or tired, because I’ve seen you pick accessories faster than Rachel Zoe even after you pull an all-nighter, so...” Blaine trailed off, looking concerned.

“I think - “ Kurt looked to the side at all of his lovely clothes in their tidy rows and felt a wave of despair wash over him. Was he sick? Was this early onset dementia? Was he going to forget everything he knew? Was he going to forget what he wore the day before and repeat outfits without even realizing? Was he going to forget _himself_?

“Kurt, what is it?” Blaine tugged him toward the bed, sitting beside him. His brows knit together with worry, and Kurt wondered if he’d forget Blaine, too. The thought was enough to make the blood rush from his head, leaving him dizzy.

“Tell me I don’t have Alzheimer’s.”

Blaine’s brow furrowed even more. “You don’t have Alzheimer’s.”

Swallowing, Kurt nodded. Of course he didn’t. That was ridiculous. He wasn’t even out of high school yet.

He closed his eyes for a second and pulled himself together. He hadn’t forgotten how to put together an outfit. He just couldn’t focus on whether his new Free People cardigan went with his H&M striped shirt when one was from a women’s collection and the other was from a men’s... and suddenly that meant something different to him than it had the day before.

Connecting a few of the scattered dots in his mind, Kurt straightened up and looked into Blaine’s worried face. “I don’t have Alzheimer’s,” he said to reassure them both. “But I think I did something wrong this week.”

“You’ve looked amazing every day,” Blaine said, growing even more confused.

“No, not that,” Kurt said, smiling a little at the compliment, because he liked that Blaine always noticed his outfits. Kurt would have made the effort, anyway, but it was especially nice to have an appreciative audience. “But thank you.”

Blaine smoothed his thumb over Kurt’s knuckles. “What, then?”

“Remember that boy I told you about? From Vocal Adrenaline? Wade?”

Blaine nodded. “How did they do at Regionals last night?”

“They won,” Kurt told him. They should have; they were as polished as ever, only with actual soul beneath it for a change. They’d be tough competition, but he didn’t care, because they deserved that win. Wade did.

“So he didn’t wear the heels?” Blaine asked, looking a little relieved. He’d been as worried for him as Kurt when he’d heard about the possibility.

“No, he _did_. And he was amazing. _She_ was amazing? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to call him. Her. Unique. I don’t know what to call Unique.” Kurt’s free hand fluttered into the air with his frustration. How could he talk - or even think - about this if he didn't know the right words to use? “Shouldn’t I know these things?”

“What happened, Kurt?”

“She - “ Kurt shook his head; he didn’t want to get into more pronoun trouble. “You should have seen their performance. You know Vocal Adrenaline is always incredible, but this was something way beyond that. This was... you know what it’s like when you see someone like Rachel singing and you know it was what she was born to do?”

“You mean someone like you?” Blaine asked with a smile at the edge of his mouth.

Kurt smiled a little, too, and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “Yes. Well, Wade was born to do _that_. He was born to be Unique.”

“That’s great.” Blaine’s voice was soft and awed, because he, too, knew what it meant to be able to be who you were. He knew what it cost _not_ to be himself.

“Yes, but - “ The smile drained from Kurt’s face. “Wade told me he wanted to be Unique at the performance, and I told him not to do it. _I_ did. Me.” It made him feel like he might throw up just to think about it; saying it aloud made the shame rise sharp and sour in the back of his throat.

“Kurt...” Blaine rubbed his thumb over the back of Kurt’s hand. “You were just trying to protect him. We both know what Ohio is like.”

Kurt pushed himself off of the bed, because there was suddenly too much emotion spiraling through him for him to be able to sit. “Unique was _amazing_ , Blaine,” he said, spinning back to him. “And I told him - her - _I_ said not to do it. Not to be who he is. She.” He shook his head, frustrated by his inability to express himself properly. How could he go off to college if he didn’t know how to talk about these things? “You know what I mean.”

“You were - “

“Don’t tell me I was trying to help,” Kurt cut him off. “I told him that even _I_ didn’t dress as a girl.” It cut sharp and fast for him to admit it aloud, but if he was going to bleed from being wrong he didn’t want to hide it. He needed Blaine to know. He needed to talk about it with him.

Blaine glanced over at Kurt’s open closet and then back to him. “But you don’t.”

“I know I don’t. Even when a pair of pants comes from Anthropologie, I’m not wearing them to look like a girl. I’m wearing them because they’re perfect. Fashion may have no gender, but _I_ certainly do.” Kurt stopped pacing and dropped his hands to his sides. “And no matter what the majority of the football team has told me over the years, I’m not a girl.”

With something of a grin and a pointed lift of his eyebrows, Blaine said, “I know.”

Kurt let out a breath of a laugh despite himself. “I know you know,” he said, feeling the heat rise on his face. He wondered if it ever wouldn’t when he thought about all of the sexual things he’d done with Blaine and all of the other things he hoped to do in the future that proved just exactly how male they both were. The thing was, though, that as much as he’d always known he was a boy growing up, as much as he’d never wanted to be anything else, being with Blaine and exploring his very male sexuality and urges had only cemented the matter in his mind. He was a boy who liked boys, a man who loved men. No matter what particular piece of clothing he chose to wear to complete a look, underneath it was as simple as that.

“But Wade’s a boy, too.”

“I don’t know what he is,” Kurt said. “I mean, yes, but he’s... I don’t know if he’s a drag queen or transgendered or a transvestite or something else that’s probably the proper term that I don’t even know.” He made himself continue, his voice dropping with the shame of it. “And I told him he shouldn’t be.”

Blaine took a slow breath, considering, listening in the thoughtful way he always had from their very first conversation at Dalton. “Kurt, you weren’t trying to hurt him.”

“No, but I still did, Blaine.” It felt like he was pleading for Blaine to understand, not to be supportive like he always was but to _understand_. “I took all of the things everybody threw at me for so many years - telling me I was a girl, I was weak, I was the kind of boy only big burly guys in leather would want to look at - and put it right back on him.”

“I’m not a big burly guy who wears leather,” Blaine pointed out.

“And neither of us is the girl in the relationship, and you like it when I lead on the dance floor and off. Yes, I _know_ it’s all wrong, I know we don’t fit into those boxes, I know just because I can rock a kilt doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man underneath, but I still put that on Wade. He told me he wanted to dress like a woman, and I told him he shouldn’t.” Kurt sank back down onto the edge of the bed, tired and ashamed down to his bones. “Like it was bad that he wanted to.” He picked at his duvet for a moment. “He called me out on it.”

Blaine sat up a little straighter. “He did?”

“Don’t get all protective,” Kurt told him. “He was right. He said I should have understood, and he was right. I should have listened to him.” He looked back into Blaine’s compassionate, beautiful eyes. “But I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This. Talk about this. I don’t know what to say. I thought I did, but I don’t.” Kurt shrugged, his helplessness clawing and eating at him. “Obviously. Because if he’d listened to my advice he would have hidden all that inside.”

“Kurt, you listened to _him_ , even if maybe you didn't come to the right conclusion right away. That’s more than most people would give him. You know that.”

Kurt shook his head, thinking of how alone he’d felt when Karofsky was bullying him, even when his friends tried to be there for him, because nobody but Blaine had understood what was going on in his heart. “I _do_ know that. That’s why it’s not good enough.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Blaine said, rubbing his hand over Kurt’s knee. “If he hadn’t talked to you, no matter your advice, maybe he wouldn’t have had the courage to do what he did.”

“Don’t make excuses for the fact that I told him not to be himself.”

“You didn’t mean it like that,” Blaine replied firmly. “You know you didn’t.”

Kurt shook his head again. He hadn’t, but he’d still been wrong. To tell someone not to be as absolutely fabulous as Unique was, to tell someone to hide his light under a bushel... it didn’t matter why he’d said it. He still had. “I thought,” he said slowly, “when I came back to McKinley, that being myself might help other kids see that they should be, too. I thought when you transferred that people seeing us so much in love would be inspired to change their minds.”

Blaine smiled at him and took his hand again; it was as comforting as ever, even if he shouldn’t be comforted for something he’d done badly. “Some of them have.”

“But look at what happened with Karofsky. And now Unique. I haven’t exactly been there for _them_ , have I?” Kurt scuffed his heel on the rug, feeling about as big as the pile on the carpet. “I’ve just been living my life.”

“But that’s part of being a role model, showing people how to live.”

“I’m _not_ a role model.”

“Sure you are,” Blaine told him.

Kurt shook his head. “By default. Not because I should be. At least not about this. My fashion sense, on the other hand... if I ever get it back, anyway.” He sighed over at his closet.

“Kurt.” Blaine tugged on Kurt’s hand until Kurt was looking at him in the eyes again. “You’ve been _my_ role model since the day I met you.”

That stopped Kurt cold; he froze in his surprise. He could see that Blaine meant it from the intensity and warmth of his expression, but it didn’t quite seem possible. He knew Blaine loved and respected him, but -

“Really,” Blaine said with a laugh. “You’re never anyone but you. Do you know how special that is? How special _you_ are?” He shook his head. “Of course you don’t. It never occurs to you to do anything else.”

“What else would I do?” Kurt asked.

“You could have listened to all of the people who told you no. Who told you to blend in. Including me.” Blaine’s smile turned wry.

“I did try a little for you,” Kurt admitted. “It didn’t really work for me.”

Blaine raised Kurt’s hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, making Kurt’s stomach flutter. “No, being yourself is better. You taught me that.”

“I still don’t know the right thing to say to Unique,” Kurt said, because with the adoring way Blaine was looking at him if he didn’t keep the conversation on track he was going to push Blaine down on the bed in a minute and kiss him senseless, despite his parents being home. “Or anyone else who talks to me.”

“You can tell them you’re still learning, too. But you’re willing to listen. If you are.”

“I am.”

“I know.” Blaine squeezed his hand. “And that’s all you need to do.”

“Why are you so good at this?” Kurt asked; he was torn between being relieved by Blaine’s words and annoyed that it was so easy for him to say the right things. “Maybe I should just send them to you.”

“But it’s not me they want to talk to, Kurt. I’m not the one they look up to.” Blaine shrugged, and there might have been an edge of disappointment there.

“Well, they should,” Kurt said. “Because you’re _my_ role model, too.” He leaned in, tucking his shoulder against Blaine’s, and the bright smile he got in return cleared away some of the clouds in his heart.

Maybe neither of them really knew what to do, but they had each other. And they were trying.

That was worth something. It was worth a lot.

Kurt pushed himself to his feet before he could get too drawn into Blaine’s warmth. “I believe you promised me brunch.”

“I did!” Blaine leaned back on his hands. “Do you want me to go downstairs and let you pick your clothes in peace?”

“No,” Kurt told him.

“You know it’s fine with me, but... I’m not sure your dad’s going to be okay with me staying up here if you’re changing.” Blaine looked worriedly over at the partially open door.

“Is it cold outside?” Kurt asked, his thoughts clarifying.

“A little chilly. You’ll want layers.”

Kurt caught the twinkle in Blaine’s eyes and flashed him a smile. “I can wear my Belstaff vest over this,” he said. It had kept him nice and warm at Six Flags on Senior Ditch Day, and it was appropriately simple. “Maybe a hat.”

“You’re - “ Blaine got to his feet as Kurt pulled out his white Docs. “You can take all the time you need, Kurt.”

“I don’t need more time; I’m almost ready,” Kurt said. He sat in his desk chair and quickly laced up his boots. Definitely a hat, he thought; he didn’t want Blaine to overshadow him completely. Maybe his leather cap.

Blaine smiled, easy as ever, and said, “Okay.”

Before they left his room, Kurt shut the doors of his closet. Tomorrow he’d pull together another fashionable and exquisite outfit for school, but today, going out to a casual brunch with his wonderful boyfriend, he didn’t want all of that.

He was going to go out without couture, without an abundance of accessories, without artifice. Maybe that was part of why he’d had so much trouble picking out an outfit that morning; he just didn’t feel like wearing something complicated, no matter how much he enjoyed it and how much he liked dressing up to go out with Blaine.

Today he didn’t want to hide or augment or draw extra attention through fashion.

Today he didn’t want to be judged on the cut of his coat or the color of his jeans.

Tomorrow he would put on something fabulous, because it was a big, important part of him, too. He was never going to stop loving it.

But today he really just wanted to go out as _himself_. Purely, simply Kurt.

Because that’s who he was.


End file.
